Just One Week
by BunnyOfMint
Summary: After getting an assignment at school, Arthur is forced to volunteer at the local school for mute, blind, and deaf children. He gets assigned to be the 'buddy' of one American – who, despite being mute, manages to be rather loud. USUK, Yaoi, AU.
1. Chapter 1

Characters do not belong to me. Enjoy!

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Arthur stared at the huge, brick building in front of him; Carthoson's Academy. He let out a sigh and walked up to the door; one week. He had to spend one week here with one of the students his age. The Brit remembered protesting about his assignment, asking his teacher for another one.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…

"So," Arthur's teacher continued, "I'll pass around this bag, and whatever you pull out will be your job for this assignment."

Arthur stared at the bag, hoping he'd get something easier for his 'contributing citizen' assignment. Each student would get a piece of paper that would tell them where they would volunteer. He was hoping for the environment center, or something that suited him.

His classmate passed the bag to him, and the Brit bit his lip and stuck his hand in. He felt around for a paper and pulled one out, passing the bag on and unfolding the piece of paper.

_Volunteer at Carthoson's Academy._

Arthur's hopes shattered. Carthoson's Academy… an academy for deaf, mute, and blind students. He couldn't get along with kids his age; volunteering there meant he'd have to spend a week with one of the students.

Mr. Wallace continued talking about the details of the assignment, but Arthur couldn't stop staring at the paper. There was no way he could volunteer there; he wouldn't get along with the kids there. Even a job picking up trash on the sidewalk would be better. The bell rang for the next class, and the Brit immediately confronted his teacher.

"Mr. Wallace, I was wondering if there was any way I could switch my job for the assignment?" Arthur pleaded. His teacher ignored him as he walked to his desk and sat in the leather chair.

"What did you get?" Mr. Wallace asked, typing away at his computer.

"Volunteer at Carthoson's Academy," the boy answered. The teacher was silent for a moment before answering.

"Listen, Arthur, I know you're not good with people your age, but they really need volunteers there. Not many kids want to spend their days hanging out with handicapped children, but they need friends there. I'm sending a third of my students there for that reason. You're just going to have to suck it up, ok?" He answered. Arthur tried to protest, but Mr. Wallace cut him off again.

"You might find a friend there Arthur. Just amuse me and go for one week," the teacher said with a tone that ended the conversation. Arthur grumbled and wadded up the paper, throwing it in the trash bin. Anger welled up inside him as he walked out of Mr. Wallace's room. He tried to convince himself that it wouldn't be so bad, but in his mind he knew this would be the worst week of his life.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…

Arthur sighed again as he opened up the glass door to the spacious building. Inside it was relatively quiet, but the Brit could hear faint sounds in the background. He ambled up to the desk, waiting for the secretary to notice him. It was an older girl in her fifties, rather large with a set of reading glasses perked on her straight nose. The girl looked up from her stack of papers.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Arthur clenched his hands together as he continued.

"I'm here to volunteer," he grumbled. She nodded her head, pulling out a paper and a pen.

"Name?" she asked.

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Age?"

"Fifteen."

"Duration of your volunteering?"

"The shortest one available."

"One week it is then," she said, slipping the paper into a folder before standing up and walking towards a set of double doors.

"Follow me," she commanded, and the Brit did as he was told. They passed into a huge hallway filled with doors on each side.

"These are dorm rooms. Most of the kids stay here permanently," she told Arthur as they headed down the long hallway. Several kids passed them, some of them using canes. The whole paint scheme was rather dull; white all around with wooden doors and that nasty carpet you can only find in schools and public buildings.

The secretary came to a stop and Arthur almost ran into her. She knocked on one of the doors, waiting several moments before opening it. Arthur walked in slowly, seeing a kid with blond hair, blue eyes, and glasses reading a comic book.

"Alfred, this is Arthur. He's going to be your buddy for the next week," she said before walking out, shutting the door. Arthur started at the boy, who stared back. He wasn't blind… and the secretary had addressed him with words; does that mean he was mute?

Arthur was about to ask, but suddenly the Brit had the air sucked out of him by the other tackling him in a bear hug, making Arthur slam into the floor below. The Brit struggled against the boy's hold as Alfred rolled them around on the floor, right through dirty clothing.

This was going to be a long week.

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Two times an author really needs reviews: The beginning of the story and the end of the story. Please guys, I'm really self conscious about this one, review and tell me if you think it's a good idea/things I could improve on/etc. Constructive criticism is fabulous as well.

The contributing citizen assignment is a real assignment I had to do. Between that and a picture I saw of the Bad Touch Trio inspired me to write this. Mr. Wallace is a real teacher; he was the one that assigned me the 'contributing citizen' assignment.

Sorry there was only like, 30 seconds of Alfred in this one. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed it! Hasta la pasta~!


	2. Chapter 2

Characters do not belong to me.

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"B-bloody… get off of me!" Arthur finally managed to shove the boy from him and stood up. Alfred followed suit, his face radiating happiness as he gestured frantically with his hands. The Brit crossed his arms and waited for the boy to calm down, but it didn't seem he would when he started running in circles around Arthur.

The Briton tapped his foot impatiently; how much energy could the boy have? Again he was picked up off the floor and spun in a circle, despite his shouts of retaliation. Alfred finally put him down and held still.

The American stared at Arthur's face, almost uncomfortably. Arthur stared back, starting to feel self-conscious of the boy's staring.

"What is it? Do I have something on my face?" The Brit reached a hand up to his face, feeling around for anything. He ran a hand through his golden hair, feeling for anything at all. Nothing.

Alfred bit his lip like he was trying not to smile and reached up, touching Arthur's large eyebrows lightly before pulling his hand away. Turning around, the mute boy grabbed a whiteboard from his desk, quickly scribbling on it with a black marker. He flipped it around to show Arthur.

_Your eyebrows are huge!_

The Brit scoffed, turning his head away from the other boy.

"They aren't huge. They're a bit larger than normal, yes, but not huge," he hissed in reply. Alfred rolled his eyes, erasing the words on the whiteboard before drawing two simple eyebrows. He pointed to the board and to his own eyebrows; Arthur caught the hidden message _– my eyebrows._

The American pointed at Arthur, and then withdrew the marker again and literally scribbled all over the board before pointing at Arthur again. Arthur snatched the marker from him, his face flushing in embarrassment.

"Using the whole board is an exaggeration," he grumbled, tossing the black marker back onto Alfred's bedside dresser. "I'm here for an hour, I'm guessing. What do you want to do?" Arthur asked, regretting the words as they came out.  
Alfred bit his lip and looked around at his room, eyes lighting up as he set the board down in its spot and grabbing the comic book off the bed. He pushed it towards the Brit.

"I don't read comic books," he said; Alfred frowned and tossed it back on the bed. He smiled again and walked to his dresser; on top of it was an Xbox and a tiny, twelve-inch TV. He grabbed one of the controllers and turned around, looking at Arthur. The Brit just shook his head no.  
Alfred walked around the room scratching his chin like he was thinking. Arthur stood, annoyed already. What was it about him and kids his own age? They never got along. At least magical friends were there; they understood him better than anyone else.

The American snapped his fingers, grabbing Arthur's wrist and dragging him out of the room and down the hallway. It seemed many of the other kids were used to Alfred by the way they dodged the boy; even the blind kids heard him coming and stood closer to the wall.

Alfred pulled the Brit towards a huge set of double doors, slamming open one of them with his free hand and dragging Arthur outside with him. The outback was huge; the Briton had never realized that there was such scenery behind the academy. Tons of hills surrounded the area, with a forest just in the distance. Tennis courts, basketball hoops, and other sporting tracks were poised in the area; it was like a campground. Even a small lake sat off to the side, most likely man-made.

The mute boy pulled Arthur with him towards the body of water; a small brick pathway led up to some docks. The whole place was rather beautiful, in Arthur's opinion. Alfred's pace slowed as he pulled Arthur onto the wooden docks. Different, small boats aligned the area, designed for only a few people to sit in them. Arthur watched as the American climbed into a two person peddle boat, patting the seat empty next to him.

"I'm not getting in the boat," Arthur growled, but Alfred just patted the second seat again.

"No," he protested, but Alfred clasped his hands together, a puppy dog look on his face as he pleaded with the Brit. Emerald eyes stared at the pleading boy before Arthur grumbled, climbing into the peddle boat. Alfred immediately started peddling, Arthur struggling to keep up as they peddled right into the middle of the pond.

Alfred sighed, a big smile on his face as he held still for what seemed to be a new record. Arthur folded his arms, crossing one leg over the other.

"Do you come out here often?" Arthur asked, looking down into the water; it must have been rather deep. Alfred shook his head no.

"Why did you come out here today, then?" he continued. Alfred pointed at the other boy. _Because of you_. Alfred sighed again, stretching his arms out. They sat in silence; Arthur in arrogance and Alfred in awkwardness, not sure how to appease the boy next to him. The ripples on the water smoothed out, leaving the pond smooth once again.

"I'll admit that the area is nice. I didn't know there was such a place behind Carthoson's Academy," Arthur mumbled. Alfred smiled, leaning over Arthur and looking into the water on the Brit's side of the boat. He pointed into the water, signaling for Arthur to look. The Brit did, and underneath the water was a flash of silver. Alfred leaned back into his seat, pressing his hands together and waving them;_ fish._

Arthur smiled a bit, but it quickly vanished. He wasn't going to enjoy this week. He pulled out his phone and checked the time; 3:37. Not much more to go. The Brit was about to slip the device from his hand when it was ripped from his hand.

Alfred snatched the phone from Arthur's hands, and the Brit was tried to grab it back but Alfred moved it out of his reach. He looked at what Alfred was doing as the American maneuvered to the App Store.

"Don't download any apps!" Arthur hissed, reaching for his phone. Alfred moved it out of his reach as he started looking for a fun app. The Brit leaned over to the boy, reaching for the phone; but the mute boy kept on reaching it farther away until it was over the water, and then even farther.

They didn't realize how much they'd tilted the boat until it tipped over and they both fell into the water.

Arthur fell face first into the water, the impact stinging his face along with his lungs. He gasped for air as he immediately swam for the surface, limbs flailing and his clothes getting soaked, pulling him down. Swimming in a swimsuit was one thing; but in his jacket the Brit was fighting to stay on the surface. He stuck his head out of the water for just a moment, gasping and pulling in air before the water flowed over his head again.

He thought he was going to drown until a firm arm wrapped around him and pulled him up to the surface, staying grasped firmly around his waist.

Alfred held the phone in one hand and Arthur in another; he glanced at the Brit just long enough to make sure he was ok. Then he swam to the dock furiously, just by the power of his legs. The feeling burned; luckily this wasn't the first time Alfred had swam in the lake. The American reached the wooden dock and slammed the phone onto it, heaving the other boy up onto the dock before pulling himself up. Instantly he collapsed, laying down and breathing heavily.

Arthur gasped for air, looking at the other boy. A wave of relief rushed over him as he realized Alfred was ok. Two adults – parts of the academy staff, no doubt – came and picked the two boys up and carried them back into the building. Arthur was too in shock to protest as they were set into a small, doctor-like room on beds.

The Brit looked over at the other boy, who was grinning from ear to ear, his sandy blonde hair dripping wet with water. Arthur narrowed his eyes – why smile? They were drowning not ten minutes ago!

"Why the bloody hell are you smiling?" he hissed, and Alfred grinned, standing up and walking to a small counter, dripping water along the way. Arthur watched the boy pick up a yellow pad of paper and scribble something on it with a pen. He flipped the pad and showed Arthur his horrendous handwriting.

_That was totally awesome!_

Arthur groaned and face palmed.

"You're such an arse, you know," he hissed, standing up and walking to the door. "I don't attend here, so I think I'll be going home now." The Brit picked up his wet phone, shoving it into his pocket. Luckily it was warm outside, so he wouldn't have to worry about his wet clothing.

As he was about to walk out the door, Alfred caught his arm, spinning him around frantically and writing on the pad again, showing it to Arthur.

_Did you have fun?_ The paper read. Arthur opened his mouth, about to speak, but closed it again. How exactly would he describe today?

"I wouldn't necessarily call it fun, but it wasn't boring, that's for sure," he mumbled. Alfred smiled widely and nodded his head, releasing the Brit's hand and watching the boy as he walked down the hallway.

_My new friend,_ Alfred thought, still smiling as he lay back down on the bed.

* * *

I feel as if too much happened in this chapter, but I didn't want a whole chapter about them arguing about the size of Arthur's eyebrows.

Reviews are lovely. To all of you who reviewed the first chapter, thank you sooo much. I appreciated it very much and it boosted my confidence about this story. But yes, reviews are lovely.


	3. Chapter 3

Characters do not belong to me.

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Arthur grumbled a bit as he pushed down on the 'end' button of his phone again. He'd let it dry, charged it, and it still wouldn't work. It seemed the phone wasn't as durable as he'd thought.

"Bloody first day and the git's already ruined something of mine," the Brit hissed, half-slamming the phone on his table before he walked out of his house, calling to his mother that he would be leaving. It was still early fall, so it'd be a warm enough walk to Carthoson's without a coat.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…

Alfred pulled the Brit with him out behind the academy once again, and immediately pointed at the lake. A big smile lit up his face, but Arthur yanked his hand away from the American.

"No way in hell I'm going anywhere near water with you again," Arthur growled. "My phone is broken now, thank you."

Alfred grinned sheepishly, patting the other boy on the shoulder in a form of sorry. Arthur thought about cursing the boy with black magic, but decided against it. Alfred wouldn't be worth the energy it would take to cast the spell.

The Brit was awakened from his thoughts as Alfred started tugging on his shirt, pointing into the forest just up ahead. The taller boy grabbed Arthur's hand, pulling him on the brick walkway past all the sporting courts. Arthur allowed himself to be dragged, deciding that the forest couldn't be worse than the pond.

Eventually the brick path turned into a dirt path, and the trees started to get thicker. The path was smooth and not rocky; a person could ride a bike on it if they wanted to. The two boys walked in silence – although it wasn't like they could make conversation if they wanted.

It wasn't thirty seconds into the peaceful walk that Alfred tried running into the forest. Arthur grabbed his shirt, pulling the boy back.

"Are you stupid? You'll get lost in there!" the Brit hissed, and Alfred grinned, staring at Arthur in that weird way. The shorter boy looked back at the American, unsure of what the boy meant by that stare.

"Stop staring at me," Arthur grumbled, shoving Alfred a bit so the American wouldn't see the small blush on his face. The mute boy just smiled and took Arthur's hand, putting a closed fist above the Brit's open hand. With a quick, faint smirk the American opened his hand and dropped a beetle onto Arthur's open palm.

Not seconds after Alfred had pressed the beetle into the Brit's hand had the shorter boy started screaming, violently shaking his whole arm. The bug flew off of Arthur's hand and into the bushes next to the path. Just to be safe, however, the Briton shook his whole arm again while Alfred tried to contain the smile on his face.

Arthur stared at his palm as if he wasn't sure if the bug was gone or not. His breathing was heavy and after a good long moment of staring, his emerald glare focused on the taller boy next to him.

"Why the bloody hell did you do that!?" Arthur shouted in the American's face, shoving the boy roughly. Alfred ignored the shove as if it hadn't happened, putting a hand on his stomach to calm his breathing. A huge smile seemed to be permanently plastered onto his face, and if he could laugh he would be right now.

"That was not funny!" Arthur hissed, moving to shove Alfred again but the boy barely moved. The Brit glared at the other boy, but Alfred seemed immune to the emotions that were flowing out of the Briton as his smile turned into a more polite one and patted Arthur on the head.

"Don't pat me on the head like I'm a boy," the shorted grumbled, which made Alfred pat his head again. They stood still on the path, not walking.

"I've only known you for two days, and you are the most annoying bloke I've ever met," he hissed, glaring darts at the American – who, again, seemed not to notice the emotions one bit.

Alfred stood, smiling with his huge sky blue eyes while Arthur glared at them. It would have gone on longer if it weren't for the sound of another coming down the path.

"Arthur, mon cher~!"

Said Brit immediately tensed up at the voice. It was a voice he knew all too well from school – Francis Bonnefoy. Arthur turned his glare down the path where the Frenchman was walking, and another boy with blonde hair and an unruly curl sticking out of it. Francis was wearing that supposedly 'seductive' smile of his, while the boy next to him had his arms wrapped around a white stuffed bear and a set of glasses were perched on his nose.

"_Frog,_" Arthur hissed at Francis as the two newcomers made their way to stand next to Alfred and the Brit. Alfred patted the other boy on the shoulder, who smiled just a bit behind the tufts of polar bear fur.

"Still as harsh as ever, I see. Monsieur Wallace assigned you to zis academy as well, I see?" Francis said. Arthur nodded his head curtly, not really wanting to acknowledge that the Frenchie was right.

"Ah! Zis is Matthew!" Francis placed his hand tentatively on the quiet boy next to him. Matthew smiled and held his hand out timidly to Arthur, which the other boy shook. He seemed to be much more relaxed than Alfred was, though the two boys looked shockingly similar.

"Nice to meet you, Matthew. Words cannot describe how bad I feel about you having to deal with Francis for a week," Arthur said dryly, but Matthew just shrugged his shoulders.

"Who is zis handsome fellow next to you, big brows?" Francis questioned. Alfred's eyes lit up as he realized he was the topic now, waving ecstatically at Francis and shaking the Frenchman's hand vigorously.

"His name is Alfred," Arthur grumbled. Alfred grinned widely, energy pouring out of him again. Francis was eyeing the American with that weird look, and Arthur didn't trust him around Alfred after the Frenchman had called the boy handsome.

"Well, we must be on our walk now," Arthur mumbled, grabbing the American's hand and pulling him down the path again, in the direction the two other boy's appeared from. Alfred reached out and patted Matthew's head as he was being dragged away, almost like he was the quiet boy's big brother.

As the path took a bend and you could no longer see the Frenchman and his companion, Alfred went to pull his hand away but Arthur wouldn't let him. Shrugging his shoulders, Alfred allowed the Brit to half-drag him down the path.

"How long is this trail, Alfred?" Arthur glanced at the American, who held up his hand in a two.

"As in, two kilometers?" the Brit asked, but Alfred shook his head. Arthur grumbled mentally. What did he mean? Two minutes, two hours, then? He didn't notice as Alfred slipped his own hand away from the Brit's, and slipped into his pocket to withdraw a small pen and pad of paper he kept just in case.

Alfred lightly scribbled on the paper, tapping Arthur's shoulder and showing him the little pad.

_2 miles. WTF are keelomiters?_

Arthur winced at the American's terrible spelling, and the use of the shortened word.

"Kilometers, Alfred. K-I-L-O-M-E-T-E-R-S," he spelled it out, but the American just shrugged his shoulders before he flipped the page on his notebook, scribbling once again. Pulling the pen away, he flipped it to Arthur.

_Who's Monseeour Wallace?_

The Brit couldn't help but smile at the misspelled French. Alfred could misspell the French language as much as he wanted.

"He's my teacher at school. Why do you ask?" Arthur countered the American, who flipped the page and scribbled again, though this time it took a bit longer for him to write.

_What did Francis mean, 'assigned to this academy'?_

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. He certainly didn't want to hurt the boy's feelings by telling him he didn't really want to be there, but what else was there to say?

"This is actually an assignment for school, Alfred," Arthur started. "I'm here volunteering because it's an assignment."

Alfred frowned a bit, shoving the pen and paper back into his pocket and walking significantly slower. His energy had disappeared, and Arthur frowned a bit; he hadn't meant to upset the boy.

"W-well, actually, Alfred… this wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be; it's actually nice, if you don't count the boat tipping over yesterday," the Brit grumbled, turning his head away so he didn't have to look at the taller boy in the eye.

Arthur felt a warm set of arms wrap around him and a warm cheek press against his own, nuzzling him. He glanced over, and in the corner of his eye he could see Alfred's face next to his own, rubbing their cheeks together. It took the Brit a good, long moment to register what was happening before he pushed the boy away, a large blush spread across his face.

"Don't do that, that's awkward," Arthur hissed, but the American just shrugged his shoulders. The Brit yelped as the ground disappeared beneath his feet; Alfred picked him up bridal style and started half-jogging down the path, though it wasn't easy when Arthur was trying to get out of his grip.

"You bloody bloke! Put me down now!" the shorter boy yelled at Alfred, who just smiled sheepishly and continued jogging down the path. The American tightened his grip on Arthur, his smile turning into a grin.

"Alfred! Don't do this to me!" he hissed, trying to pry the hands off him to no avail. Alfred jogged the whole path – which was a large part of stamina on his part – and down to the building, passing all the kids and sporting courts along the way.

Alfred kept on jogging, and Arthur kept on struggling even as the American kicked the door to the building open, jogging through the halls and the lobby. The secretary didn't seem to care as Alfred kicked open the front door, walking down the large staircase until they stood at the parking lot in front of the academy.

Gently the American set Arthur down, who stared murderously at Alfred. He wanted to yell at the taller boy for carrying him such a long distance, but he couldn't find it in him as he took a large breath and composed himself.

"I don't think it's been an hour yet, but I'll be leaving now," the Brit mumbled, and started walking in the direction of his house. He would have made it farther if Alfred didn't come up and hug him from behind one last time. The shorter boy turned around, about to look at the American, but Alfred was already bounding up the stairs, waving at Arthur and heading into the building.

Arthur completely calmed down and walked back to his house, lightly touching his cheek where Alfred's had been minutes ago. _There's something about that boy, _Arthur thought as his feet pounded against the sidewalk.

* * *

A quick thing on my update speed: I will normally update within one week of my last update. If I have other things in my life going on that are more important than fanfiction, I will do those first, so my update might be a couple days after a week. I will rarely wait more than two weeks to update. If I do it's because I'm on vacation or I'm really slow or I'm suffering from the bitch known as writer's block (which rarely happens).

Reviews are lovely, really. I appreciate all of the reviews from the last chapter! I love you all :'D Such kind words :3


	4. Chapter 4

Characters do not belong to me.

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Arthur gave up on trying to get Alfred to put him down at this point. Every single time he came to Carthoson's to spend some time with the American, the boy would pick him up off of his feet in a large bear hug. The Brit remotely wondered where the boy got all of his strength from.

It was his third day here, which meant he had three more to go; the Academy wasn't open on Sundays for visitors. Although he wouldn't ever admit it to the American, this week wasn't the worst thing in the world. Alfred was much nicer than his classmates, anyways.

The American released the other boy, his mouth pulled into a grin as he ruffled Arthur's hair. Arthur ignored him, his ever-present glare gazing at the boy.

Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand, pulling him down the hallway to the dorms instead of outside. He ran to his room with the Brit in tow, opening the door and dragging the other boy in before shutting it with a loud bang. Arthur watched as the boy jumped over to his bookshelf, running his hands across tons of comic books before grabbing one.

The American turned around dramatically, shoving the comic book in the Brit's face. Arthur looked over it, staring at the cover. In big, red letters it read "The Amazing Spiderman". He could tell that Alfred was very proud of it, but he couldn't tell why.

"It's a comic book; what's so special about it?" Arthur asked. Alfred rolled his eyes, pointing at a small number in the corner: 129.

"So it's issue 129. Does that mean something?" Arthur continued, trying to pretend he was interested in the book. Alfred slapped his forehead with one hand, gently setting the comic book on his bed before grabbing the whiteboard he kept next to him. He scribbled quickly on the board before flipping it to Arthur.

_So? So? This is one of the rarest comic books!_

The Brit just shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't one for comic books, so it didn't mean much to him.

"Alfred, I don't read comic books," he grumbled. Alfred rolled his eyes, going to write on the board but the Brit stopped him, wrapping his hand around the taller boy's arm.

"That's great, Alfred. Listen, I have a question for you," Arthur said. Alfred stopped trying to write on the board, looking up at the Brit through his glasses.

"Are you and Matthew related?" he asked, and the American bit his lip. The shorter boy released Alfred's hand, who immediately started writing on the board.

_Kinda._

"What do you mean, '_kinda_'? How can you be kind of related to somebody?" he asked. Alfred tapped his chin in thought before tossing the board onto the bed and grabbing the Brit's wrist, pulling the door open and running into the dorm hallway again; he didn't bother to close his bedroom door along the way.

Alfred dragged the boy to the end of the hallway where another door waited for him. The American knocked on the door, and moments after a boy's voice came through the wooden door.

"Come in!"

Alfred opened the door, pushing the Brit in and walking in himself before he shut the door. The room was the same, small layout of Alfred's; on the bed a boy with dark brown hair laid on top of the covers.

Arthur watched as Alfred went up to the boy, grabbing his hand; the American pressed the hand to his face, and the boy on the bed smiled.

"Hey, Alfred," he grinned. Arthur's eyes widened as he realized the boy was blind, but had been able to tell who Alfred was just by touching the American's face.

Alfred dropped the hand turning to Arthur and staring at the Brit. He gestured towards the dark-haired boy, then put his hand in front of his mouth and tapped his lips.

It took Arthur a moment to understand, but he got it after a moment: _ask your question_. Arthur nodded his head.

"Uh… hello; my name's Arthur. I'm Alfred's buddy for the week," the Brit introduced himself, reaching his hand out but pulling it back as soon as he realized the boy wouldn't be able to see it.

"My name's Tobias. Any particular reason Alfred dragged you here?" Tobias asked. Arthur watched as the boy slowly sat up, turning and dangling his feet off the side of the bed.

"Yes, I think he wants you to explain his relationship with Matthew," Arthur said, unsure if that really was what Alfred wanted.

"Oh, Mattie? They're half-brothers. Mattie doesn't really like to talk to people, though," he said while Alfred gave the Brit a thumbs up.

"Wait, I thought Matthew was mute; how can he dislike talking if he's never done it?" Arthur asked while the American sat on the edge of the bed next to Tobias.

"He's not mute," Tobias answered, and Arthur stood, dumbfounded. That didn't make any sense! He was obviously not deaf, and Arthur was sure that Matthew wasn't blind from his meeting with the boy yesterday.

"How does he go to the academy, then?" Arthur questioned, his large eyebrows knitting together.

"He's not technically deaf, blind, or mute. But the academy made an exception for him. Plus, he never talks anyways. I mean, he can, but he's been here for a year and I haven't heard him say a word," Tobias said, but it only confused the Brit more.

"If he's not handicapped why does he not go to a normal school?" Arthur murmured, and Tobias smirked sadly.

"What, you haven't noticed yet? This school has dorms for a reason. Kids stay here the whole time. Carthoson's Academy is a dump for parents that don't want to deal with their handicapped kids," the dark-haired boy said dryly.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The Brit glanced at Alfred, and for the first time, the American wasn't smiling. His blue eyes were filled with pain, and Arthur frowned as he realized Tobias had spoken the truth.

The Brit hadn't noticed it, but what Tobias said was true. Most schools – besides colleges – didn't have rooms for the kids to stay in. Most the time, a kid would go to school and come home every night.

"Their parents just didn't want to deal with a kid who wouldn't talk. Nobody still really gets why Mattie won't talk, but he still doesn't," Tobias continued.

Alfred reached over, lifting up Tobias' hand and pressing his own into them in signs – he was signing into the boy's hand. Tobias nodded, and Alfred stood up, motioning for the Brit to follow before opening the door and walking back to his own room.

Arthur felt like he should say something, but what could he say? Obviously the Brit had hit a soft subject, and he could tell by the American's actions. He followed behind the taller boy as Alfred walked back to his room, walking past the already-opened door.

Arthur walked in, turning around and shutting the door. He turned back around, his emotions shocked as he realized Alfred was crying.

"Al… I'm sorry," he murmured, walking over to the boy sitting on the bed. Gently he picked up Alfred's rare comic book, setting it on the desk before sitting next to the American. He wrapped his arms around Alfred, trying to comfort the American; Alfred responded by pressing his head onto Arthur's shoulder.

Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, pulling the Brit closer and crushing him against his body with his strength. Arthur sighed, but didn't say any more, letting the boy cry.

He didn't mind when Alfred's tears soaked into his shirt, he didn't mind when his foot fell asleep from its awkward position. He didn't realize how much he was starting to care for Alfred; how much he was willing to do to stop the mute boy from crying.

* * *

So... feels. Sorry about the OC in this chapter; if you really hate OC's, don't worry because I don't think Tobias will appear again.

I appreciate the reviews from the last chapter! I really love you all and encourage you to review again and tell me what you thought of this chapter :3 Constructive criticism is great, too!


	5. Chapter 5

Characters do not belong to me.

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Arthur looked up at the clock, which read 2:57. Ever since Mr. Wallace had assigned him the contributing citizen assignment, he'd leave as soon as he got home to go visit Alfred. He'd gotten home ten minutes ago, but was procrastinating, waiting to leave.

He kept pretending that any second now he would go outside and take the small walk to Carthoson's, but in the back of his mind he knew he wasn't going anywhere; at least, not after what happened yesterday.

It had pained the Brit to see Alfred crying. Even though he'd only known the American for a few short days this week, he'd grown closer to Alfred without realizing it. Alfred was a close friend to Arthur, and never in his wildest dreams would the Briton expect to see Alfred so depressed; the boy had fallen out of a boat, for God's sake, and still found something positive to say about it.

The boy found himself ambling in the kitchen, subconsciously heating some water up with the kettle for some tea as he thought about yesterday; The Brit had ended up staying with the crying Alfred until the secretary finally came in and informed Arthur that all visitors had to leave.

The Brit carefully poured the steaming water into a mug, trying to think of what possibly could have hurt Alfred so much. His mind came up with all sorts of possibilities, though none of them could have been right.

It was his frustrating curiosity that led him to dump the hot water down the sink before even finishing the tea. Slamming the mug down on the counter he walked out of the house, heading briskly for the academy.

The green-eyed boy walked quickly, down the road and past all the cars whizzing by. He kept walking until Carthoson's academy was in view, then sprinted up the staircases and into the large building.

As always, the secretary looked up at him and back down each time she entered. Arthur wasn't sure if she actually kept track of the visitors, or she just let people come in as they wished; he brushed the thought out of his head before turning down the long hallway towards Alfred's room.

Taking a deep breath, the Brit knocked on the door and waited several seconds like he'd seen the secretary do. He placed his hand on the brass-colored doorknob and twisted it, pushing the door open.

Alfred was sitting on his bed cross-legged with one of his prized comic books open on his lap. He smiled wide when he saw Arthur standing in his doorway.

Arthur opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but what could he really say? It would be rude to downright ask the American to tell him why he'd been crying so hard. Letting out a quiet sound of frustration, the Briton closed the door behind him along with his mouth. He padded to Alfred's bed and sat down, next to the taller boy.

"Sorry I'm late," Arthur grumbled; the American shrugged his shoulders, still staring at the comic book. The shorter boy watched as Alfred turned the last few pages slowly, and Arthur recognized the superhero in the book - Superman, though he couldn't place any other of the characters.

The taller boy tossed the book onto the corner of his bed before staring at Arthur. It wasn't a menacing stare, or anything of the sort, more like he was trying to ask a question. The Brit returned the gaze, feeling uncomfortable until the other boy picked up the board and with is marker scribbled on the surface.

_Sorry about yestarday._

Arthur stared at the untidy handwriting, and had half a mind to correct the misspelled 'yesterday' but thought better of it.

"It's fine," the shorter boy grumbled, folding his arms and looking down. Now was a good time to ask, but wasn't it rude to outright ask something that was obviously personal?

Emerald eyes watched as Alfred's hands rubbed the words out of existence. Sighing and squeezing his hands together, Arthur sucked up the courage to ask.

"Al… Alfred? If you don't mind me asking… what happened to you?" He asked. Alfred looked up, concentration brewing in his eyes until he figured out exactly what the boy was asking. His large hands pulled the lid off the marker and set it on the board, as if to write something, but the American didn't.

For a moment, Arthur watched the unmoving hand until it finally scribbled across in the same untidy handwriting.

_Nothing happened._ _My parents ignored me._

"So, they didn't do anything with you at all?" Arthur asked, his voice and posture uncomfortable. Alfred wiped his forearm across the surface, clearing it of the ink. He started writing again, this time a long paragraph that was cramped and the smaller board. Arthur waited patiently until the American flipped the board around.

_Mattie was the star child for a bit. It was weird, cause he's really quiet and timid. Then Matt stopped speaking too, told me he wanted to be like me. So they ignored him, more than they ignored me. And one day, they dumped us here._

Arthur frowned, averting his eyes. What would you say to that? 'I'm sorry' was completely plain and didn't convey everything he wanted to say. When Arthur looked up, ready to stumble through some empathizing, Alfred was holding the board to him again.

_Its ok cause I've got you now, right? And you've got me!_

A smile lit up the American's face, and Arthur didn't know what to say. The mood in the room had brightened extremely, compared to it's sullen feelings just moments before. He wanted to push the American off the bed and yell at him for being stupid, but that would probably ruin his grade, so the Brit squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head.

That explained why Matthew had stopped talking to, or at least a bit. He'd done it for Alfred, and then his parents screwed him over too just because he wouldn't talke. Arthur thought about some of his older brothers; he could never do something that nice for those obnoxious prats. There wasn't enough money in the world.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he looked at the American who was bouncing on the bed.

"What are you dragging me to do today?" Arthur asked, but Alfred shrugged, out of ideas for the first time it seemed. But the Brit felt a finger tap his shoulder twice, looking over at the taller boy. His hands were clutched around the board which bore a new message in the black ink.

_What's public school like?_

Arthur already had an answer ready for that one.

"Imagine the most obnoxious idiots you've ever met in your life. They're all sitting around you and have no capacity to learn. The only thing that matters is popularity, and dating, and what's for lunch that day," Arthur almost growled, describing the kids he dealt with.

Alfred rubbed the question off and scribbled a new one, just as quick as the first one had appeared.

_Have you ever dated someone?_

Arthur blushed a dark shade of red, averting his eyes. Of course he'd ask something like that; of all the questions in the world.

"No, but that doesn't matter and you shouldn't ask stuff like that!" Arthur half-shouted, making the American grin apologetically.

Alfred kept scribbling questions down, asking Arthur everything he could think of, and the Brit asking some in return; before Arthur knew it the sun was starting to sink quickly; it was 6:30. The Brit got up, walking out of the building and got down to the sidewalk when he heard stomping behind him.

Turning around he saw Alfred sprinting towards him barefoot. He ran up to the Brit and wrapped him in a tight hug, almost knocking Arthur down. He'd learned not to resist the American, so he waited as the boy swung him around like he weighed nothing.

Just as he was getting to the part where he normally but Arthur down, Alfred set the boy down, keeping his arms wrapped around the boy. The Brit felt a warm set of lips kiss his forehead, but before he had time to respond or punch Alfred for doing so, the American was running back inside the building, waving radically backwards.

Arthur stood still for moments before grazing his hand where Alfred had kissed his forehead. A blush came over his face, and he started sprinting home, forcing such thoughts out of his head.

* * *

A couple of things:

1) My sincerest apologies for taking nearly two months to update. I've had so much going on that was always in my face, I didn't have time for this. I don't know why it took me so long (this is the longest time in between updates for me ever), but at least it's here now, right...? Feel free to virtually slap me for taking forever.

2) Before you ask, the majority population at every school I've gone to couldn't even form a complete sentence. Whether or not you feel that way, I don't know, but it is the truth as far as I experienced.

3) Arthur's brothers; a reference to Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. As far as I've heard, the countries don't really get along, but do at the same time... like a love-hate relationship, just like one would expect from siblings.

And as always reviews are super nice, and always appreciated. Constructive criticism is nice too. On a side note, I'm never abandoning this story, so if my updates are a bit spacey, never fear! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Characters do not belong to me. Enjoy!

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Arthur stared at the door to Carthoson's. Today was Friday, and Friday meant one thing. It was the last day he had to go to visit Alfred.

Now, this last Monday, nothing would have made him more excited than to know he could be done with the bloody chap. Granted, he would have to write a one page report on how his services contributed to the community, but Arthur could easily put together something like that.

With what happened yesterday, though, he couldn't have wished more an excuse to spend more time with Alfred. The Brit could never see himself coming without being forced to come, but after what had happened yesterday…

The boy scolded himself mentally, looking up at the clouded sky and forcing such the thoughts out of his head. There was no way in hell Alfred rolled that way. He shouldn't even think about it.

Arthur had just met him that Monday; he didn't know much about him. The boy was too oblivious to even fit the Briton's needs, anyways. Too obnoxious and annoying and… American. He was much too American for his liking, Arthur told himself.

As if to convince himself even further, Arthur turned and went to walk back home. There was no way Mr. Wallace would know if he skipped out on one day, and he had better things to do with his time than spend it with the other boy.

Just as he turned, he ran into the last person he wanted to.

"Ohonhon, is ze little Arthur trying to skip out on ze assignment?!" Francis laughed, causing the Brit to blush a furious shade of red.

"No I was not! Mind your own business, frog!" The Brit hissed, but the elegant boy just laughed harder, knowing he had spoken the truth.

"I zee Arthur does not want to let 'is sexual tensions wiz ze American grow stronger!" the French boy pressed his hand to his stomach as if trying to slow the amplifying laughter.

"I do not have sexual tensions!" Arthur shouted, and too late noticed as two little kids stared at them from the back of stationary scooters. If even possible, his face got redder as he noticed the kids had probably been waiting for them to move off the sidewalk so they could ride past the teenagers. During which they must have heard at least part of the conversation.

Francis noticed what the Brit noticed as well, and his legs collapsed under him so he rolled around, half on cement and half on grass, his laughing growing even louder.

The two kids – a boy and a girl, no more than 8, took the opening on the sidewalk to dash past the teenagers. The French teenager still rolled evermore on the ground, and Arthur squared his shoulders and walked into the building, his face still red as he left the other boy behind.

Arthur rushed down the hallway to Alfred's door. In his rage, he slammed open the door without knocking or thinking, which was probably his first mistake.

The Brit stared at the American – he was lying shirtless on his bed, the window blinds open just enough so sunlight hit his toned chest and abs perfectly. A comic book was in his hands, and his messy blonde hair was reclined into his pillow. The radio played music in the background as Alfred pulled the sucker out of his mouth with one hand and waved at him.

Arthur did what any rational young gentleman would do; he slammed the door shut again, too shocked to move. He stood in silence, not blinking his eyes, heart racing. That was definitely _not_ what he wanted to see.

The door swung open again, revealing Alfred on the other side, still shirtless. The sucker was stuck in his mouth again and his hair was just as tussled when he was standing up. The Briton's green eyes widened, and he reached forward and shut the door again, covering up his view of the shirtless body.

The American, on the other side of the door, smirked around the sucker. Bending his waist over so his eye was right next to the door frame, he opened the door just a crack so he could see through with one eye.

Arthur glared at the clear blue eye looking at him. As quick as a flash of lightning he reached forward and pulled the brass knob towards him, shutting it again. Not even a second later Alfred opened it again, standing up straight again. Arthur found himself staring at the lips drawn into a grin, but before he thought anymore he decided to share his feelings.

"Will you stop it and go put a bloody shirt on now!?" he yelled, but the shouting bounced right off the American's bubble. He was immune to criticism or negative feelings, it seemed.

Down the hall, Arthur swore he heard a familiar French laugh.

Muttering to himself, he shoved past the American and into his room. The Brit heard Alfred shut the door behind him, but he ignored the other boy as he went to the closet. He slid the door aside, looking for a shirt, and was appalled to realize all the hangers were empty; not a single hanger had a shirt or jacket on them.

"Alfred… where is your clean shirts?" he hissed menacingly, turning and staring at the happy-go-lucky boy. The taller boy shrugged and pointed to a pile of clothing in the corner; it was a meshed clump of jeans, shirts, jackets, and underwear.

"Have you ever heard of a dresser, or a closet?" he asked, and Alfred nodded, throwing the sucker stick into a trash bin. The boy flunked back onto the bed, crossing his arms behind his head and revealing his underarms.

"Do you _use_ a dresser or closet?" the American shook his head no. The shorter boy rubbed his head in frustration; he'd always assumed the clothing on the ground was all dirty and Alfred didn't have the IQ points to use a laundry hamper. Now that he looked, all the boy's 'clean' clothing was piled together in one corner, and the rest of the clothing was just strewn about in no piles.

Arthur turned his head over to Alfred, who was holding up his board.

_Chillax, it's just clothing dude._

"It's _just _clothing? It's what you wear! It's a statement of your etiquette! What will people say if you have wrinkles in your clothing?!" the Briton shouted. Alfred just flipped the board and erased the previous message with his forearm. Taking the lid off the marker, he scribbled on it again.

_They'll say I have wrinkles in my clothing._

Arthur made a frustrated sound and pulled a shirt out of the pile, hurling it at the other boy. If only shirts hurt. Alfred caught the shirt smoothly and put it on, and the Brit had the dying desire to point out every wrinkle on the plain blue shirt, and the little hole torn in the shirt.

"You need to clean this room and hang up your laundry," he grumbled, but the American just shrugged. Arthur clawed at his hair, aghast that someone could be so untidy. It was one thing to keep dirty clothing on the floor – Arthur himself certainly wouldn't – but now that he truly examined the room, he was appalled.

Before, Arthur hadn't paid too much attention to the room. Yes, he had definitely noticed the untidiness of the room, but now that he noticed the details – dust lined in certain areas, the carpet hadn't been vacuumed in ages, the bed unmade…

"Do they have a cleaning system here?" the Brit asked, and Alfred started scribbling on the board once again. Once he was finished he flipped it over.

_You can check out vacuums and cleaning supplies and stuff. They're really relaxed about us cleaning our rooms, though._

"Let me guess; you've never vacuumed this room once, right?" Arthur criticized, but the American scribbled underneath his earlier message quickly.

_Mattie makes me. Or the secretary if it gets bad._

"What, and this isn't bad?"

Alfred erased his previous writing with his forearm once again.

_Not for me, lol :D_

"You can't laugh out loud, you're mute you arsehole!" Arthur shouted, then blushed and put his head down. He hadn't meant for that to be so rude. He glanced up at Alfred, who seemed to have had his bubble penetrated by his harsh words. The Brit sighed and folded his arms; he stared out the window, not making eye contact with Alfred.

"Sorry. That was a bit harsh," he grumbled, his face red as he said it. He was never very good at apologizing. Alfred scribbled on the board, the marker thumping on it until he flipped the message over.

_It's ok._

Alfred looked like he was waiting for the other boy to say something, but when Arthur didn't, he wrote on the board again.

_Have you ever seen 'Saw'?_

"What's Saw?" Arthur asked after reading the message. If he thought about it, he could remember his classmates talking about it, but didn't have a single idea what it was about.

_This really cool horror movie. I really wanna see it but the secretaries won't let me watch it without parent permission._

"What do you want me to do it about it? I'm not your parent," Arthur said, but Alfred grinned a grin that made the Brit feel a bit queasy. Alfred erased his message on the whiteboard and began writing on it again.

_We can go to your house and watch it._

Arthur grumbled to himself; this sounded like it was about to become a problem.

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Aaaand done with the next chapter :D Sorry for the long update. But guess what? I got out for summer vacation! Which basically means I'll have way too much time on my hands, giving me more time to write the next chapters! ...or wallow away in writer's block. But I know what I'm doing for the next 2 or 3 chapters, and I can't wait to start writing them, so I don't think that'll happen.

I love reviews. I really do. Please please, if you like the story, drop a review in. Reviews often give me the stuff to write the next just a couple of words are great! Tell me what you thought of this chapter, and, as always, constructive criticism is welcome and extremely appreciated. Thank you to all who read, reviewed, and favorited this story! I love you all!


	7. Chapter 7

Characters do not belong to me. Scott = Scotland, William = Wales. Enjoy!

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Suffice it to say that Alfred had easier time getting permission from the academy to sleep over at Arthur's house. This was mainly due to the secretary's laziness. Alfred knew that some kids had lots of issues with overnight stays, but found it was easier than he thought.

"Now, normally, you'd have to deal with paperwork for this. Lots of it. We'd need your parent's phone number and your address, and get written or verbal permission from them," she said with a lazy, slow voice as she gestured to Arthur. "Then we'd have to send it to Alfred's parents, and they'd have to approve and give listings of rules, blah, blah, blah. This takes about a week or so, depending on the parent's response times; so here's what I'll do."

"I'm just going to pretend, when I check to see that all the students are in their rooms tonight, Alfred is there; and you better be back by midday tomorrow." She grumbled before going back to her gossip magazine. Arthur was extremely uncomfortable with her lax way of dealing with this, but happy at the same time.

Thanks to this, the two boys were walking down the street now; Alfred had a backpack strapped to him filled with his pajamas, toothbrush, pillow, and everything else he'd need.

The only problem now was getting the move. Arthur secretly wished two things for this coming night: the first one was that they would not be able to get the movie. The second one was that, by some wonderful mistake, his brothers would not return home.

Since he started school in America, Arthur had dared to bring home one friend he'd made: a Japanese boy named Kiku; and in the time frame of one hour, his older brothers had completely spilled every secret that Arthur had ever had out, read his diary out loud in a mocking voice, and set his most prized stuffed unicorn on fire. By the time their parents had come home, the younger boys were duct taped to the tree in their backyard, Kiku in complete tears.

Needless to say Kiku never returned. It had taken one hour for his brothers to completely destroy his friendship. He rarely ever talked to Kiku now, and the Brit couldn't blame him; the unicorn sacrificing was a bit crazy.

Arthur sniffed; he missed that unicorn.

After that Arthur had made a few acquaintances, but never had any friends. He never wanted to make anybody sit through that again. Except for Alfred, who the Brit deemed would survive the night. Alfred had this way of not realizing how serious the situation is, nor did Arthur think he would mind being duct taped to a tree.

The two boys walked down the street and turned the corner; Alfred was mostly silent, but that was because his whiteboard was stuffed away in his backpack. His cobalt eyes were shining; this was his first sleepovers. Cool things always happen on sleepovers.

"That's my house, right there with the big tree in the front yard," Arthur pointed towards his house. Alfred looked at where the other boy pointed, and a huge grin appeared on his face. It would be an understatement to say that the boy was excited. This was his first real time out of the academy; he'd been there since his parents had sent him. Yeah, they had field trips and whatnot, but nothing could compare to being out of the academy without his parent's permission.

The two boys walked up to the front door, where Arthur pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it. Alfred instantly bounded inside, and his eyes opened in awe.

Everything was decorated spectacularly and everything was clean. Arthur bent down and unlaced his shoes before sliding them off and setting them by the door. A staircase led downstairs to the right, and the living room was on the left. The Brit walked straight, passing the main room and the hallway that led to his oldest brother's room, turning left and into the kitchen where he started making tea.

Alfred stared in awe just at the living room alone – a beautiful fireplace and mantle was the focus of the room. Beautiful couches sat around across from each other, a small coffee table in the middle. A grandfather clock sat in the corner, accented by the light that streamed in through the windows. It almost looked like it could belong to your grandmother's home.

"Alfred, stop being a twit!" Arthur yelled; the American stopped staring at the room and noticed that Arthur had walked off into the home, leaving Alfred staring at the front room.

The American followed the voice around a corner; he saw Arthur standing in the kitchen, holding a kettle in his hands.

"Do you want some tea?" the Brit asked, and Alfred wrinkled his nose; but before Arthur had time to reply to his friend, yelling erupted from inside the house. Arthur watched in complete terror as his older brother stuck his head out of his bedroom door.

"What's all this yelling about an Alfred?!" The brown-haired boy roared, looking at where Arthur stood, and then noticing the other boy standing in his home.

Scott stared at the boy, looking him up and down. There was no doubt that this boy was here with Arthur; they looked the same age, although 'Alfred' seemed much taller and more fit than his wee little brother. It had been a long time since Arthur had dared to bring home a friend.

The older boy smirked, then in a sing-song voice, called out to his brother. "Oh, Willy~! We have some company!"

Arthur placed the kennel down on the counter before sinking to the floor. He'd forgotten that the high school let out early today, so his brothers would be home before he'd have time to usher Alfred into his room.

Alfred heard the sound of a door opening, and footsteps jogging up the staircase. A blonde haired boy ran to the kitchen and slid to a stop on the hardwood; he looked like an older Arthur; blonde hair, larger brows – though not nearly as severe as Arthur's – and green eyes. He was much taller and lean while Scott was huskier, built like an athlete.

William stared at the boy in his kitchen, then at his hunched brother, and put two and two together. A smirk exactly like Scott's appeared on his face.

"Aw, Artykins, how cute! You brought your boyfriend over!" William mocked. Scott roared in laughter.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Arthur shouted, his large brows furrowing together in anger. Alfred sat quietly – though it's not like he could have said anything anyways – wishing he could help Arthur. He remembered in one of his classes at Carthoson's that you should go with what the bullies say, because once it stops hurting your feelings, they stop bullying you.

Alfred turned to Arthur and bent down, pulling the Brit up by his arm. He blushed awkwardly, then wrapped his arms around the other boy and kissed Arthur's cheek.

All three brothers sat in shock. The youngest blushed furiously, wanting to push Alfred away and punch him for even trying something like that. Scott and William's eyes grew large as they watched Arthur's 'boyfriend' hold him against his chest. Finally Scott whistled out loud.

"Guess we called the bloke gay one too many times, huh, Will?" he said awkwardly. "So, I'll leave you two to, uh, your gaymance…" Scott pulled his head into his room and slammed the door shut. Will nodded in agreement and sprinted back to the basement. Arthur immediately shoved Alfred away and started half-heartedly hitting the American's back.

"Don't you ever do that again you bloody twat!" He grumbled as he hit the boy's back with the side of his fist. Alfred just stood, immune to the punches, proud of his heroic act.

"Don't act like you're a hero, either! Give them a couple of minutes to recover and they're going to tease me forever about what you just did!" the Brit moaned as he thought about the torture that was to come for the next several months.

Alfred just shrugged his shoulders, still beaming. He'd never been able to kiss somebody before; this was the best time he'd ever spent out of Carthoson's. Arthur slowly stopped hitting the other boy, then grabbed the American's shirt and pulled him towards his room.

_He hasn't even been here for 5 minutes and it's already a bloody nightmare, _Arthur grumbled mentally. At least his older brothers were gone – for now. If they found out he and Alfred were going to watch Saw tonight…

Arthur shuddered. He didn't even want to think about it.

* * *

Paha! Look! An update! These new chapters are as scarce as the second coming of Jesus... I'm sorry .

Well I have a small excuse on this one. Saw used to be on Netflix, and my plan was to watch it and then write said chapter. Well, silly me, I go to watch it and realize that, oops, they've deleted it! So I had to grovel on my knees begging my mother to get it, but she wouldn't because she was convinced that I would have bad nightmares, yada, yada, yada. So I had to ask my local hippies to borrow their copy, and, luckily, they were much cooler about it. That whole thing took me about 2 and a half weeks.

Then the watching of Saw won't even happen until the next chapter... *facedesk*

On the British Isles: I've always found that I can get their names confused throughout reading the fanfiction, so I think some of you might have the same problem..? So just look at it this way. Scott is for Scotland, Will is for Wales - they begin with the same letter. If Ireland and Northern Ireland come in (I'm planning on it), they will be twins, Northern Ireland being a girl. This should help keep the names set in place for you guys.

Thank you to all the lovelies that reviewed my last chapter! I absolutely adore you all! I would encourage you all to review this one as well!

Finally, my local hippies say hi to all of my readers!


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